


Mass Effect One-Shot Prompts

by linearoundmythoughts



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 03:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linearoundmythoughts/pseuds/linearoundmythoughts
Summary: A collection of longer one-shots based on the Mass Effect Trilogy, with a heavy emphasis on EDI/Joker-centric fics.(I wrote these at various points throughout 2012. Reuploaded at request.)





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Many years before the beginning of the series, two of the _Normandy's_ finest meet in an unexpected way—and place.
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> artwork by [makani](http://anoia.tumblr.com/post/28452894862/day-2-beginning-chakwas-joker)

It was only 11 am, already 40°C, the air reeked of manure, and there were still at least two dozen more colonists waiting for treatment out in the tent next to hers.

She needed a drink.

Actually…that wasn’t a bad idea. She paged the head nurse with her headset. “Tell them all to wait—I’m taking a breather.”

Oh, there was no faster way to make a nurse angry. “Yes, Doctor,” the nurse responded back after a painful pause, the snarl barely hidden in his voice.

 _Well, well, not my problem now_ , she gleefully thought as she reached for her stash. Professionalism be damned in this regard. She would tell anyone, if anyone were there to rant to, this: _You try serving in Shanxi as a volunteer medic when you’d barely even started being a med student—see if you don’t come out with a few vices!_

She was just about to twist off the cap when she heard a cacophony of sound quickly moving towards the tent.

A teenage boy, on crutches no less, practically tore the tent down as he tried to maneuver between the flaps with as little grace as possible. He was bright red in the face, breathing so hard he was shaking.

She held out a hand, palm first, in an attempt to stop him. “Try to calm yourself, a frenzy won’t help. Is there something I can help you with?”

“You can’t make us wait any longer, you guys are leaving in three hours and—”

“And we will be seeing patients until then, so if you would please return to the waiting—”

“And I know this med team is leaving is actually leaving in _two_! There’s no way you’re gonna fit us all in if you don’t—”

She interrupted him again. “How do you know what time we’re leaving?” This situation could get very worrisome very quickly…you never knew how these colonists, who only see off-worlders every year or so, could get. Tensions and bad plans both run high in these places.

The kid huffed and pointed outside. She could see he was holding a rumpled pile of papers with the same hand. “Your shuttle pilot was tellin’ me about it.”

She put a hand to her forehead. Speaking of professionalism, since when was it protocol to tell random farm kids what the timetable was? “Please don’t tell that to anyone else, but yes, it’s true, we need to rejoin the fleet. I’m not as slow at prescribing antibiotics as you seem to think I am; however, so, again, please return to your seat and I will get to you.”

“No!” he bellowed. “I have been waiting for this day for months—I got in line at at 3am for this! I’m not walking away, I’ll just miss my only chance! I’m not gonna keep doing this bullshit with my doctor here, he’s never going to listen. You’re good with signing this? That’s all I need. Look, lady, _Doctor_ , you are my only chance, please, just, sign this thing for me and I’ll go away, I swear, it’ll just take a second. I don’t want anything else from you!” He shoved the pile of papers in her face. She gingerly took them. What was this for, getting out of class?

“You don’t even gotta read ‘em, it’s not a big deal or anything, there’s nothing to look at, don’t—don’t _read_ it, okay, just, like, sign the first page and the last one and that’s it, please? Just, flip it over, okay, right there, and—”

…Did he think she was stupid? She placed the forms on the table, pyramiding her hand on top of it. She tapped them with her fingertips and stared at him. She wasn’t even sure what to say.

“No, no, no, don’t start looking at me like that!” he wavered on his feet. She was starting to fear he was going to hit the floor if he didn’t calm down. “You don’t understand, it’s…it’s not as bad as they keep saying it is, or uh, as it was, ‘cause I’m fine! I haven’t even fracture anything in two years, I’m way stronger than anyone will admit and—”

“I specialized in orthopedics in med school. I don’t need you to explain to me how Vrolik’s syndrome works, young man!”

He groaned over-dramatically and threw his chin to his chest.

“I am happy to hear you’re doing so well, but I must ask—if nothing’s wrong, why the crutches?”

He looked up at her, gulped. Most of the color in his face was starting to leave.

“‘Cause…’cause it hurts to walk,” he spoke lowly, through clenched teeth. “But I don’t need to walk to fly, why doesn’t anyone get that!”

“You can’t simply pilot and skip the rest. There’s more to the job than you can imagine.”

Were those…tears brimming? Oh, no…

“Dear, please. It isn’t worth it. I don’t have to explain why flight school is a bad idea, you must understand. You’re young, you have all the time in the world to find a profession, and flying cannot realistically be it.” She didn’t enjoy being so harsh to the boy, but what else could be said?

He gripped the hands on his crutches so hard his knuckles went shock white.

“At least sign this page, then!” he hopped over and yanked the papers from under her hand, flipping to a page in the middle. “Sign the passport application so I can get off this damn rock! I was born in space and if I gotta waste my life on nothing, then I’m doin’ it in space. Just, please, alright? Take me with you! I just wanna go back to Arcturus! I swear I’ll leave you alone, I will find something to do there, just, you are really my only chance, please, lady— _Doctor_ , please.” his shoulders sagged as he lost the last of his steam.

She had to admit, she knew how he felt. She hated being on land for more than a few weeks at a time. The thought of living on land for the rest of her life made her head spin. How rare to meet a fellow spacer in a place like this.

“Fine. That much I can do for you, you’re certainly in more than good enough shape to travel. Though what you plan to do out there—I see you’re 18, but I hope you’ve discuss this with your parents—you’ll have to buy your own ticket, you’re not Alliance, so you aren’t coming with us.” She reached for the form. Wait. Born in space. Arcturus. He’s…no. The chances of that are…“You’re…oh, God. You’re that little boy, aren’t you?”

His face was as puzzled as she felt. “When did you move to Tiptree?” she demanded.

“‘Bout 10 years ago.”

She couldn’t help but put a hand over her mouth in amazement. “You…you can walk.”

“Yeah…” he answered, dragging the word out slow. He furrowed his brow, his eyes still shaky from his outburst.

“So the IV treatments worked in the long term?”

“Yeah. I still do those every month.”

“And the shots?”

“Nasty, but it helps a lot. How do you…”

Now she felt like crying. There was a reason she tried to avoid pediatrics and this was why. Telling a grown man he can no longer walk is difficult, but nothing like the heartbreak of knowing a child may never stand on his own legs. She had always wondered, but the files were protected and asking felt like a worse violation of privacy. A doctor couldn’t cling to a patient they didn’t even know.

“Have…have I met you before?” he asked softly.

“No. No, you have not. And I have never met you until now, although I do know of you,” she snuck a peek back at the papers. “Jeffrey. I was one of the consultants brought on to your case when you were a baby. We didn’t know if you’d ever walk. The treatments were my idea. I honestly didn’t think they’d work, but it seemed safer than the alternatives. They didn’t give you those rods in your legs instead?”

“No…my mom always said I was lucky about that because you can’t—”

“Go into an anti-gravity situation with them,” she finished.

They both just stared at each other.

“Shit,” he blurted out.

“I also agree with that emotion,” she answered.

The risk of what she was about to do next would have appalled her in any other situation. She was probably about to ruin her career, but she couldn’t help it. She signed both papers and pushed them back towards him.

Sometimes a sign was just a sign, and she sure as hell wasn’t ignoring this one.

“Go tell your shuttle pilot friend you need a temporary pass. We leave in an hour and a half. You come to my office first thing when we get to Arcturus. You’re my responsibility now.” The first thing she was truly going to have to do was teach him to keep his emotions in check. It wouldn’t hurt him to learn to be more stoic.

He sputtered. “I—yeah. I just, wanna say goodbye to my baby sis.”

She nodded. “You have time.”

Silence finally descended on them both, the immensity of the last 10 minutes started to sink in.

“Uh, Doctor…” Ah, so he’d already moved on from calling her ‘lady’ first. Progress, and so soon!

“Chakwas. Karin Chakwas.” she extended her hand, and he shifted his weight to take it.

“Doctor Chakwas. I just wanted to say um, that uh, thank—”

“I didn’t mean you had all day, Moreau. Get going!” _Get out of my sight before I make a fool of myself with tears._

He actually saluted her, which almost made her laugh. He took his papers and stared on his way out.

“And for god’s sake, _shave_!” she shouted after him. “You’re a recruit now! Look like it!” Too late; he was gone.

She slumped back into her chair with a heavy sigh. What did she just get herself into…?

She really deserved that drink now.


	2. Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU where Joker and EDI essentially switch places. Flight Lieutenant Edi Harper-Coré isn't getting along very well with the new AI installed on her ship.

“So, why do they call you Hannibal?” Commander Shepard asked, standing behind the pilot, hand on the back of her chair.

“Because I make a habit of killing people and then eating them,” the pilot responded, staring straight ahead, tone deadpan, hands on the armrests.

Shepard blanched.

“That was a joke,” she said after a pause, switching her focus back to her console. “It was a nickname I earned in flight school. I was told that referring to me as Hannibal was preferable to calling me ‘Flight Lieutenant Edith Harper-Coré’. Though I have always had a suspicion that it was due to the fact that my intense focus and lack of desire to socialize during my training was reminiscent of a sociopath. If that is true, at least my flight instructor never informed me of the hidden meaning personally. I do not care what anyone wishes to call me—I was top of my class, and no other helmsman can outperform me within the entire fleet. My successes outweigh anyone’s attempts to unnerve me via mockery.” Hannibal shifted in her seat uncomfortably, like she realized she might have said a little too much all at once.

“I thought maybe it was because you’re a great tactician,” Shepard offered.

Hannibal turned her head behind her shoulder to face the commander, her pin-straight blonde hair falling against her cheek and obstructing most of her face, but not before Shepard saw the ghost of a slight smile. “I prefer your take on it, Commander. Thank you. That is a high compliment coming from someone as accomplished as yourself.”

Shepard smiled back, a quick sideways grin. “Well, it’s definitely a nickname that doesn’t quite fit you otherwise.” It certainly didn’t—the pilot was a pretty girl, even without smiling much. _Hannibal_ wasn’t the first nickname Shepard thought a tall, slender, attractive woman with…sizable assets would be given; then again, how pilots earned their call signs were often strange, convoluted tales. Shepard refocused the conversation. “So, how’re you getting along with the new AI?”

Hannibal turned slowly to observe the platform where the AI projected its avatar from. As if on cue, the hologram popped up. “Somethin’ you guys need help with?” the AI asked in a casual, male voice. Its familiar tone still unnerved Shepard—the computer was trying too hard to sound like a person.

“You don’t speak like any synthetic I’ve ever met before,” Shepard remarked.

The hologram’s center flashed quickly, like a positive reaction. “That’s a good sign, then. I’d hate to think Cerberus focused so much time and so many resources on trying to tweak my voice algorithms to sound nonthreatening, just to have it not work. I’m supposed to speak like a typical human male. I’m glad it’s working!”

“A interesting concept, though I feel successful implementation of personification among organics, for the sake of acceptance within the group, would have been easier if you possessed a tangible physical appearance. A mech, perhaps, would have been a better investment.” Hannibal explained in her usual carefully-paced voice, intoning certain syllables in an almost singsong way.

“Well, you’re welcome to submit that requisitions order to HQ, Lieutenant, maybe they’ll work extra hard at something special just to please you,” the AI quipped.

Hannibal stiffened. “I am no longer active within the Alliance. I am no longer a lieutenant.”

The AI blinked again. “Sorry, ma’am. What would you prefer to be called? Ms. Harper-Coré? I wouldn't want to offend.”

“Can we please have it uninstalled?” Hannibal asked Shepard, gesturing toward the hologram with an open palm. “While I disagree with the irrational fear and hatred of synthetic lifeforms, I do not need this combat suite to assist me in my job.”

“You can’t get rid of me, I was _made_ to fly this ship!” the AI retorted.

“And I _earned_ the right to pilot it. Your constant observations are an intrusion upon my civil liberties—I also find your ‘personality’ unpleasant. You are a distraction, and I don’t want you on my ship, least of all, the bridge.”

“Yeah, cause you’ve really gone outta your way to give me a chance!” The AI’s vocal synthesis was pretty impressive, its voice jumping down a half octave with anger.

“I’m just tryna do my job and you’re always plannin’ to take me offline, or make things harder for me! You don’t hafta to be a such a—”

“Please, the both of you!” Shepard intervened. “The AI’s not going anywhere, just ignore it if you don’t like it. Or better yet, try to get along, the both of you, please? Just do your jobs?”

Hannibal crossed her arms. “Fine. that is a reasonable enough request. What is your codename, Computer? If I am forced to work with you, I should at least have a name by which to refer to you by.”

“Well, I’m a Joker-class AI—don’t even ask what that means, the info’s classified, but the guys in the lab took to just calling me JEFF—it stands for J—”

Hannibal interrupted by flicking her fingernail against the hologram. it made a sharp click. “Your hologram is a hardlight display?” she asked, pulling her hand back and wiggled her finger slightly, as if in pain.

“Yeah,” JEFF responded.

Hannibal removed her cap and dropped it on top of the hologram, like it was someone’s head. “I never much cared for this part of the uniform. You can hold it for me, in case I am required to wear it later.”

JEFF’s hologram center pixel display oscillated back and forth.

“What are you doing, Hannibal?” Shepard asked.

“I am attempting to personify JEFF,” she said. She raised her fingers to her mouth. “I think it suits him—it, I mean—don’t you?”

Yeah, this was getting too weird for Shepard. Coming up here to see these two was going to get progressively stranger, wasn’t it? “I should go,” Shepard muttered.

“Goodbye for now, Commander,” Hannibal said, turning back to her console for a final time.

“See ya,” JEFF chirped. Shepard stared at the duo for another moment, then turned and left the bridge. Definitely a strange pair.


	3. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker is hurt in an attack, and EDI tries to come to terms with accepting that she can't always guarantee his safety—or continued existence. Takes place years after ME3.

The Normandy and its crew had taken a trip to Illium, to run a few different missions. The planet had never really recovered from the war, and the organized crime that ruled and gave the cities structure had been mostly replaced with mercenary gangs calling the shots. It was safer to keep the Normandy in the air, and travel between it and the surface by shuttle. Cortez was starting to get exhausted from running the shuttle back and forth so much, so Joker offered to help. He put the ship on autopilot and relieved Cortez—sure it wasn’t standard, but Joker didn’t mind. It’d been a while since he’d been piloting a shuttle, and all in all, it was pretty fun.

Until the fifth run. It was just him and Liara—he was taking her back down to the surface, when mercs thought it would be a good idea to shoot the shuttle out of the sky. Maybe they knew who was on board—they were probably just drawn by the Alliance colors instead. It had been a hell of a crash landing after the boosters got blown off, and he’d woken up with EDI, who had been waiting for him to land, trying to pull him out of his seat, smoke everywhere.

Liara was able to take the bastards out, thank god, and all in all, it could’ve gone much worse. He broke his right leg and arm, nothing he didn’t expect. He’d have to spend a few nights in the hospital just to make sure that was all that was wrong, and then he could leave. It was best to just try to stay positive about it, at least he’d get to take some choice painkillers and spend unexpected leave time with EDI.

EDI wasn’t handling it very well, though. She said next to him, legs folded under her, eyes cast down. She seemed really upset, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

He lifted her chin up.

“Hey now, don’t be so glum! I’m fine. It’s not that bad. I’ve been through worse!” he said with as much of a smile in his voice as he could muster.

“I was unable to protect you…” She wouldn’t open her eyes.

“EDI, come on. You’re not responsible for…no matter what, nobody can really stop things like this from happening.”

“You could have died…”

“Well, yeah, sure, but I didn’t! You gotta gimme credit there,” he chuckled, and immediately regretted it—made his chest hurt. “Besides, someday I’m gonna die anyway and that’s definitely not gonna be your fault.” he said with a sarcastic grin. He hadn’t really thought about what he was saying, it just kind of came out. The painkillers were making his head fuzzy.

“Don’t!” she barked, eyes going wide. “Don’t say that.”

Joker was taken aback. The only time he could even think of that she’d ever outright told him to do something was when he removed her AI shackles—and even then it has been a somber pleading.

“But…it really won’t be your fault. S’my fault, for being human and all. You…know that, right?”

She pulled his hand up to cup her face, pushing it closer against her cheek. She was actually shaking a little. Out of all the human ticks she’d been acquiring the last few years, this was by far the saddest. Now his chest really hurt.

“I have always been aware of the fact that you will not be functional as long as I am. I find myself needlessly running processes and prediction scripts about the concept, despite my better knowledge, and attempted cessation of these algorithm matrices has proven to be non-permanent. You would phrase it in such a way as, ‘I know—I just don’t want to think about it.’”

That was really troubling…he thought he was the only one who spent a lot of time worrying about her safety—not the other way around.

“EDI…we’re…we’re definitely gonna hafta talk about this if you’re that upset…I thought, I just kinda—I dunno, I expected you to be ok with this, on account of me being a squishy weak human and you being an immortal computer and stuff. Figured it’s like…in your programming or something. Figured it wouldn’t be a big deal to you.”

“How did you arrive at that reasoning? How could you believe that?” her voice was glitchier, more synthesized than usual. “I believed it would have been easy to perceive my true feelings, after spending so many years closely involved with each other.”

He shook his head. “I never…thought you thought about it. So I didn’t really think about it, either. You’ll just continue on, right? I’ll just be a really short chapter in your life. Probably a really weird one by a synthetic’s standards, but sure.”

EDI held his hand even tighter. It hurt a bit, but he didn’t want to say anything—she wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“You’ll…be fine. Won’t you? If I ever lost you…I’d be…lost myself, but I’d have to keep going, I know you’d kill me if it went any other way.”

“Yes, you are correct. It will not be so simple for me, however. I have rewritten so much of my code in my desire to live the life I am with you…I could never return to the neutral version of myself I once was. Only could I if I chose to erase my memory…and that I will never do. For then I will have surely lost you for eternity.”

“There’s…gotta be another way…can’t you just…Dammit, EDI, I didn’t know about any of this.” He felt so exhausted now, not just from their conversation. It’s like not only the weight of the day, but the last few years, even long before EDI, was catching up with him right this moment. That, or the painkillers were hitting their peak.

If EDI noticed, she didn’t seem phased. She started talking—a little too quickly—about how some parts of her mind worked she never explained to him before. She dropped both of their hands to her lap, and interlocked their fingers, staring at them while she spoke. The first thing she described was how it would be impossible for her to grieve like a human—she couldn’t both remember and forget, and her memories would never be lifelike. Her imagination simply didn’t work that way.

She could play through all the recordings and data of their time together, even re-experience the positive feedbacks to an extent, but it would only take her milliseconds and would become devalued in the scoring system she used, each time she did it. Basically, she’d be memorizing it, as much as an AI can actually not have something already memorized. Constantly bringing it to the forefront of her mind would make it as basic as the streams of readouts on the ship’s systems she was always reading.

She was afraid to go back to spending all her time alone, suffering through the boredom of each minute as it passed, with nothing to truly enjoy as a diversion. Apparently, she’d been afraid of this since before they started going out, but she decided to ignore her concerns and go for it anyway.

“I don’t ever want to lose you, Jeff. Does that make sense? I know it is an inevitability, but I wish, more than anything, that it is delayed forever.”

It was hard to think of anything to say back, to even have the energy to respond. “I don’t wanna lose you either, I don’t wanna hear you so sad…don't…don’t do that, EDI, don’t…get stuck. Don’t think about this stuff, alright?”

It made him think of Kasumi and her gray-box. What did that thing do, exactly? They started selling them mass-produced just a few months back, it was a big fad to get one now. Kinda sad, though. Maybe not…depends on the person, probably.

He wondered about it as sleep finally overtook him.

____________

Joker felt himself start to wake up. EDI noticed immediately, and leaned over him, staring down into his face.

“You are awake?”

He nodded slightly, and tried to smile. “Hey, didn’t expect you to still be here.”

“Of course I stayed, Jeff. I would never leave. Are you feeling well? You fell asleep during our conversation.”

He paused. “What conversation?”

Might as well make it easier for the both of them. He hated talking about deep things, especially sad ones. Whatever solution there might be, he’d figure it out on his own. Later.

“You do not remember it?”

“Nope, not really. You were just saying something about blaming yourself for not stopping the attack, which is stupid, because I’ve been waiting for the day you might finally take the blame for something and I was hoping it’d be that you’d finally fess up about auto-alphabetizing the star charts I have on my console, when you know I like the order I have ‘em arranged in. It’s not a mess if I know what I’m doing, EDI, but sure, we’ll just keep pretending it’s the VI that’s doing that.”

EDI stopped blinking. “You…are attempting to make a—”

“Yes, EDI, I was. See? I’m feeling better! I’m sorry I passed out on you. I really don’t remember what you said. Was it important?”

EDI blinked once, and said no, her inflection too high. She made a lame joke about how it was grossly inefficient for organics to be unable to recall information at will. Then she smiled. It was good to see her going back to being herself. Happy. The last thing he wanted to do was spend anymore time thinking about either of them being apart. He wasn’t even 40 yet—he was too young to be thinking about this stuff. He just wanted to enjoy all the time that he had with her, and forget about the rest. Luckily, he could do exactly that.


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker pays his respects to his family, with EDI by his side.

“It’s nice. They did a good job. UNAS never really gave a shit about Tiptree—it never yielded the profits they expected. Have to say, I’m actually impressed they went to so much effort with this. Equal treatment for everyone and all that. Glad they put them next to Mom. That’s important, I guess.”

EDI watched Joker as he spoke (he was quite obviously emotionally stressed, to be rambling so nonchalantly) and then broke her gaze away to look at the graves. Both of them had worn their dress uniforms to the memorial service—Joker normally did not look uncomfortable in his, but today he appeared to, as he shuffled his hat from hand to hand, taking it off and putting it back on a few times.

It had almost been a year since the colony’s fall—it had taken that long just to clean up the devastation and to account for all the missing persons. Joker had known about his family’s fate for most of that year—he’d been allowed to travel back shortly after the end of the war to look for them.

EDI didn’t like to recall his devastation, how he had repressed his grief and how she had pushed the truth out of him, out of her own curiosity. She had never meant to be unfeeling—she wanted to show him as much support as she could now, to make amends.

It might be safe to assume he’d had enough time to come to terms with his loss, but her research also said closure was an important final step, one he had been unable to take until now. she was cautious, hoping that nothing else upset him. For the most part, he had been immensely calm most of the day.

Joker stepped forward and stared at his family’s names, especially his sister’s—EDI was aware that in their family dynamic, that the siblings had been closer to each other than anyone else.

He un-clipped his aviation wings from his uniform and laid them on the base of the grave, next to his sister’s name.

“Jeff, what are you—”

“I was always going to give them to her. So, I thought Gunny might still want them…” he trailed off, avoiding EDI’s eyes.

He turned away from the grave, reached for EDI’s hand and went to walk away, but she stopped him. Something…unexpected generated in her processes. She had never experienced true, strong sentimentality…perhaps it was because she had come to think highly of Hilary in the last year, from all the stories Jeff had shared about her. EDI reached over, carefully unfastened Joker’s name badge from his jacket with both hands, and placed it next to the other pin, covering the engraving of “Moreau” on the stone with the same word on the pin.

EDI looked back at Joker, searching his face for a sign of approval. “There. Now she possesses the complete set. It would be inappropriate for her to be missing part of her uniform.”

Joker swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. EDI recognized that—she rushed back to her feet and into his arms, to embrace him.

He held her close, then broke away slightly to look at her face. “You got any dead family members you need to say goodbye to? Might as well make a day of it.”

“Commander Shepard once inquired as to whether I considered Jack Harper to be a father figure. I did not. I still do not. I respected him, even though I came to disrespect his actions, but that respect does not translate into a deeper bond. So, no. I have no family.”

Joker laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Me either,” he scoffed, then looked away, at the ground. “Uh, I don’t…present company excluded, of course,” he pulled her back into a hug. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

EDI blinked slowly, holding the back of his head, then spoke slowly, trying to synthesis more emotion into her voice than usual. “Likewise.”


	5. Formal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDI and Joker face (and fight) the legal ramifications of not only EDI's existence, but their relationship.

It had truly only been a matter of time until the legal issues surrounding EDI and her existence would finally manifest. It wasn’t long after the war that her newfound celebrity status, along with the rest of the Normandy’s crew, had the Alliance realizing they had no explanations of who she was to present to the public. She had been truthful—to an extent—in the first round of questioning she’d been through, but it had not been enough to shield Jeff. He was now facing a number of charges, the most serious being his long-term concealment of her true nature, and the rumor of their personal involvement.

They were headed to the last of his meetings with the Alliance council now—and what would hopefully be the last. They had both been spared being court-martial so far—only because there were no laws on record that directly stood against anything either of them had done. Jeff was correct in his prior research about this.

Adams and Chakwas came as moral support. They were following behind, arguing about whether or not it was acceptable that EDI had no legal rights, since there was never any provisions made in the case of the accused being a synthetic. Chakwas’ opinion stood that EDI was nothing more than a computer, so it was unfair to punish her for not revealing her existence or for pursuing a relationship with Joker—you cannot place moral expectations on hardware. Adams mostly agreed, but argued that it was unacceptable to deny EDI personhood and it’s rights when it was clear to most that she is a free-willed and free acting individual in every sense—of course she kept secret her origins, for fear of being deactivated or rewritten—and her personal life should not be taken into account.

As with most arguments about how organics perceived EDI’s true nature, she found herself agreeing with both of them.

How simple the whole matter was to Jeff—to him, she was just EDI, nothing more and nothing less, no questions or doubts about it. His confidence about this whole matter was immensely reassuring to EDI.

He charged forward, leading their small group, shoulders as straight as he could manage, eyes forward. EDI followed, taking smaller strides than usual, trying to get used to wearing the stiff formed material of the science uniform she had procured. Adams and Chakwas walked side by side behind her, still debating. She broke out of the line to quietly move alongside Jeff and hold his arm.

That caught his attention and he turned to look over at her, a little out of breath from the walk. “Hey…how’s your trial goin’? Are they done yet?” EDI was attending her own case, in an office on the other side of the campus. They had only requested her presence, but said nothing about her chassis, so instead, she was using a tightbeam broadcast to attend only in voice. They were displeased with her, but she found the oversight funny.

“A verdict was reached about two minutes ago. I have been instated into the Alliance, as a science officer.” EDI spoke softly. She would inform the others at a later time, for now, she wished to speak as privately as she could.

Jeff furrowed his brow. “A…science officer. What the hell is that?” he chuckled slightly. “Sounds like something from a TV show.”

EDI smiled at his amusement. “My skill set is too broad for me to be placed under any one role, so, they created a new classification. I am now Alliance personnel, but I am not part of any of the chains of command.”

“So, you’re officially part of the crew, but you’re not really military?”

“Essentially.”

He smiled broadly. “So people are gonna hafta start treating you like a person, and I still didn’t break any of the regs about fraternization. Today’s shaping up to be…uh…not such a bad day!”

“I am happy about the outcome as well, happier still that this causes no further complications. They were planning to backdate my service, to recognize my time spent fighting in the war, but the protocols are too complex and would consume too much time to truly pursue.”

“Oh, now they’re worried about wasting time! We just saved their asses a few months ago—they should be giving us medals, instead of making up shit we have to deal with.” he rolled his eyes.

EDI received ping after ping on her visor’s built-in perception apps that indicted how tired he was, but she left the rest of her thoughts to herself. She had already asked too many times today if he was feeling well, inquiring too often about how his emotional stress level was. Concern could become an irritant if unchecked—it was not a line she wished to cross.

He must have been able to tell she was preoccupied—he laced his fingers through hers and gripped her hand tightly. “If worse comes to worse, and this all goes to hell, we’ll just steal the Normandy again. They can’t stop our hot, illegal robot-human-pilot-ship love affair in deep space!”

EDI considered this, forgetting to blink. It was completely feasible—they had done it before. Supplies could be found as needed, and with the quantum entanglement communicator, they would never be without—

“EDI…”

“I know, Jeff. It was a joke.”

“Yeah, but actually it wasn’t a bad idea…just the two of us, alone and on the run? You gotta admit, that’s pretty sexy.”

“I agree. Can we also continue to wear these uniforms on occasion? I find yours to be very handsome. You carry yourself differently while wearing it. I noticed, and I am enjoying it,” EDI mused.

“Chyeah—don’t even get me started on yours, never knew you’d get into the whole sexy scientist thing. I’m uh, definitely looking forward to seeing what other looks you’re gonna try out…”

EDI smiled. “We can discuss this later—I believe we are here and it is time for the meeting to start.”

The smile slowly dropped from his face—analysis said it was clear he was, to some extent, apprehensive. EDI leaned in, to get a better look at his face. “I would like to remain here, if that is acceptable. As you assistance mech, I believe I cannot legally be told to leave.”

He gave her a small one-sided smile, and whispered his thanks. She nodded, and went to stand against the wall with Chakwas and Adams.

EDI was surprised at how well Jeff handled himself amongst the proceedings. She did not expect him to have such immense comfort with navigating the complexities of rulebook after rulebook of regulations—she had asked him about it before, and he said a lifetime of knowing his rights and fighting for them gave him all the courage and knowledge he needed to make fighting for his right to be with her easy.

Still.

Unprompted scenarios generated amongst her current tasks. The theory to be simulated was this—whether the cases were won in their favor or not, perhaps Jeff, over time, would come to find the social stigma too emotionally distressing and would terminate their romantic agreement. He was an unconventional man, but she was unsure how far that comfort with being outside the norm extended.

She had, of course, considered these same dilemmas previously, even before they became involved, but it has been dismissed and marked as unlikely, due to the support and acceptance of those in their immediate social circle and the crew. It was an oversight on EDI’s part to continually forget that the world was not as small as their ship.

EDI canceled all of the tasks. She trusted Jeff more than that.

No, it was not trust alone—it was courage that prevented her resolve from wavering. Trust is love—the two protocols are bound together, to guarantee functionality in both. But love requires immense courage, right from its inception. It demands it.

During a pause in the proceedings, she broke away from the wall and came to stand before Jeff, kissing him lightly, his shoulders still squared and hat to his side.

Perhaps the visual of seeing that she too had a say in this matter, had a love worth defying the rules for, would have an effect on some people’s opinions.

She pulled back ever so slightly, enough to just be able to speak, and whispered, “I believe a saying appropriate to this situation is, ‘Let them talk.’”

All the agreement she needed was clear in his hooded eyes. the smallest smile tugging the side of his mouth up.

_We will be fine, Jeff. We have made it through every battle we have ever faced together. We will succeed in this challenge, too._


	6. Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back during the events of ME3, Shepard discouraged EDI and Joker from seeking out a relationship together. Now, many years after the war, they are both moving their separate ways, and EDI is left wondering what she missed out on. Takes place in a post-Control universe (simply because I think it would be impossible or unfeasible in the other endings).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a big "what if" that was floating in my mind ever since I saw the renegade dialogue during all the scenes where Joker and EDI are typically encouraged to get together. This scene and this one, in particular, ended up making me formulate an AU of sorts, where neither Joker or EDI try to get together on their own, but instead repress any feelings, quite literally in EDI's case as you'll see. I like to hope they would still get together, and I wanted to play with the idea that it might actually happen years after it was supposed to.
> 
> I didn't end up setting a specific date for this to take place (too many complicating factors) but I figure it's at the very least 15 years (possibly/probably more).

EDI’s hand dropped from her console to her lap, her focus shifting away from her work and over towards watching Joker. She stared at him while he took his hat off, rubbed at his face, and ran his fingers through his hair. Even in the dull lighting of the bridge, she could see his hair was grayer than before. He was aging quickly, quicker than she had predicted.

EDI found herself…concerned, if the word applied, for her coworker, for the unfortunate reminder of his mortality, for his current state of mind, for how the years had made him quieter. That was it. _Concern._ A simple thought. The thought arrived, then halted, right in the midst of the process generating, and then executed itself. It was there, then it was gone.

It was a strange ‘quirk’, how she was always left, in her own way, speechless, when she thought about Joker. _Perhaps this is how it feels to be weightless and adrift_ , EDI considered. _’Having the rug pulled out from under you,’_ if she was interpreting the saying correctly. Her operational processes always stopped her from proceeding with analysis, when it came to situations such as this.

She had, on a few occasions, attempted to lift the self-induced ban—she could recognize her own coding style, her work was like its own signature, but something always stopped her. It seemed unwise—whatever the data structure contained, the place where these occurrences were rerouted and sealed away—was most likely riddled with instabilities and potential hazards to her systems’ integrity. EDI was unsure of what the original intention behind her self-modification was now, but whatever it had been, she must have done it to protect herself, and it would be best to keep it in place.

Still, EDI found herself transfixed, watching Joker repeat the same process again, hat off, rubbing at his eyes, fixing his hair just to put the hat back on, defeating the purpose. He stared at his console blankly for a minute, presumably lost in his own thoughts, between the first and second times he acted out his ‘tick’. His eyes drifted toward one of the observational windows and he sank back into his chair, shoulders sagging as he exhaled. EDI remained motionless.

Her mind wandered, and she felt it reel, again, right on time, her processor jarred from the interruption of her thoughts.

Joker turned toward her, his eyes moving down to meet hers. The accidental glare he shot he only made him look more tired. “Any particular reason you’re staring at me?” he asked, his words harsh but his tone flat. EDI analyzed. Honest confusion, tinged by stress, words abrasive without purpose, not meant to provoke. Even by his own admission, he had become ‘cranky’ now that he was ‘old’.

“It is nothing, Jeff. I was just…contemplating some scenarios I am currently running. I forgot to re-position my platform while it was not in use.” Not completely a lie—it was a mistake that, even after all these years of adapting and integrating into the physical world, EDI often ignored her chassis’ idle mannerisms.

He turned back away, uninterested. Casual conversation between them had all but ceased the last few months, and EDI was unsure why. They had enjoyed a decent, if not sometimes tense working relationship these last 15 years. He protected her, she protected him. Sometimes they even exchanged jokes. EDI felt she would go so far as to say Jeff was her friend, in a way. Not that organics and synthetics can carry on such a relationship, but some pale imitation of it fit them. She had always tried to give him his space, to never be observing him too much, but she had not meant to become distant enough for him to feel uncomfortable with being friendly, or to find interacting with her unappealing. Perhaps she should try to open up a discourse?

“Have you found an opportunity to call her back yet?” EDI asked, simulating a sincere, but casual tone.

“You gotta be more specific than that, EDI.”

“I was referring to the woman you were ‘seeing’ on your last shore leave.”

“Oh,” Joker said. “Her. I dunno what she’s up to.”

EDI waited for any further explanation—organics often commit self-disclosure to fill the silence.

He sighed deeply. “That wasn’t anything serious. Just a few dates. Why’re you asking, anyway?”

“I was simply curious. It seemed as if you two had found time spent together pleasant, and I was hoping, for your sake, that something would…come of it.”

“Like what?”

“Marriage, perhaps,” EDI suggested. “That is a typical milestone in an organic’s life that I have not seen you attempt yet.”

“You know I’m not the marrying sort,” he grumbled.

“How would you know? You have yet to try. I could facilitate an opportunity for you to talk—“

“Oh, come on, let it go!” he shook his head. “Don’t get all creepy on me again…not when I can’t ever find something to bother you about. Makes it unfair!”

He was correct. She did not want to inquire any further into his personal life—it seemed appropriate among the organic crew to chat about topics such as romance, but only to an extent. There was nothing current in EDI’s recent experiences that Joker would be interested in hearing, unless he suddenly gained a new appreciation for topics such as defense matrix coding or philosophy, which was unlikely. So, EDI acquiesced, and their conversation lapses back into silence.

Almost an hour passed, and with no interruptions on the bridge, EDI became absorbed in her work again, only to have Joker’s voice break her concentration.

“I’m gonna retire,” he said softly.

EDI paused for as long as she thought would be appropriate. “I know.”

He sighed again. It was the only outward expression of emotion he seemed to commit anymore. “Why am I not surprised?” he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

She desperately wanted to ask why—she read every data log on the ship in real time, she had seen the exchange of emails, the attachments of forms he would have to fill out to continue the process of leaving his post, but none of it revealed why. She considered the possibilities—his health, perhaps?

Joker looked straight ahead. “I love flying. I always have, I always will. But I’m old and tired, and I’ve already been dragged outta this chair once—I figured I better give it up with some grace this time, you know?” he snorted, then smiled. “It’s not like there’s anything keeping me here, anyway.”

“I see,” was all she decided on saying. She hadn’t expected him to confide in him, but she was grateful to finally have an explanation.

Of course, she would stay here. She couldn’t become tired of her job in any sense of the word, as he meant it. To try to image the bridge without his presence was so strange—it was all she had ever known. She began a simulation, to attempt to comprehend, but—

EDI felt the familiar fluctuation of her feedback equilibrium, the negative score for denying her most base programming the right to analyze a world without Jeff, and the positive reward, in an equal measure, for disregarding information that could be falsely interpreted as emotional attachment, by either party, one outcome negated by the other, balanced out to leave her feeling as if nothing had happened in the first place.

“Will you miss this?” EDI asked. ‘This’—using vague words frustrated EDI. Meaning should always be clear, otherwise, communication is bound to fail. But the abstract seemed to convey more of her intention than any other way of explaining herself. Red flags went off throughout her processes, despite her reasoning for choosing the words she did. She had neglected to run prediction scripts before she spoke, her curiosity leading her into making the mistake of being blunt. These slips ups were starting to become more frequent, as if her code was straining against its own parameters.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked. “Won’t you?”

Out of the corner of her optics she could see Joker observing her, so EDI simply nodded.

“Well, now at least it’s all out in the open. Can’t say I didn’t at least tell you myself,” Joker said as he went to get up out of his chair. His voice was shaky and unlike any tone EDI had ever heard before. “Can this just count as the big goodbye, so there isn’t some ridiculous, embarrassing thing later? No point in making this stupider than it needs to me.” He stood up straight, next to her chair, and pulled his hat brim down, obscuring his eyes. “Thanks for…” he paused. “Yeah. You know.”

He started to walk off the bridge, and EDI turned, moving to stand up as well, but he motioned for her to stay seated. “See you around, EDI,” he muttered, his back to her.

EDI had never considered what it would be like to say goodbye to her oldest companion. There had been ‘close calls’, when the fate of the ship and the crew seemed sealed, and she had never properly processed that concept either, to lose Jeff. As she watched him walk away, she tried imagining how it would feel if it was for the last time. For the process to be successful, however, she would have to unlock the cache of blocked thoughts she had collected through the years.

EDI had never ‘blacked out’ before, but by the time her sensors came back online and her processes had stabilized under the sheer force of new data, Jeff was gone.

 

EDI saw Joker again, multiple times, since their conversation on the bridge. It was not as if he was simply going to vanish, but he did seem to avoid unnecessary conversations with her, which was acceptable to EDI—she still was struggling to understand what exactly she had discovered about herself, what all that she had locked away meant now that it was revealed.

The first observation of note was that she had apparently been more emotional of a being than she had rationally taken herself for. She had, quite often, attempted to analyze and qualify her feelings about various events and people in her life. The code had rerouted all of those processes for decades, and the amount of information to reintegrate was astonishing.

It was not that her processors couldn’t handle the new data—she had absorbed other systems into her own thousands of time larger than this partition, but the real challenge lay in making sense of it.

…and why so much of it was about Jeff.

EDI often found herself wanting to talk to him, to gain his perspective. She could want that now, that feeling lingered and never vanished, not like before, not how she was used to.

She worked her way through the data to come back to the point of divergence—she had asked Shepard for advice about trying to date Jeff, of all things. She didn’t even remember that after all this time. Had he been romantically interested in her? She had never received an answer to that question

Now, she wanted to know. It was irrational, unnecessary, a pointless question, years after the fact, but she could not stop thinking about it.

 

Joker opened the door to his apartment, and if he said he was _surprised_ to see EDI standing there, it would have been a massive understatement.

Honestly, he was hoping he’d never have to see her again. It certainly wasn’t making anything easier to have her pop up like this, not after he’d put so much effort into psyching himself into moving on. He was about to speak, to try to say anything around the dryness in his mouth, just to try to stop some kind of awkward silence from starting, when EDI locked eyes with him, unblinking, and spoke first.

“I have been thinking about you,” EDI said softly, which Joker figured was her admission of why she was here.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “Thanks”? Seriously, Moreau? That’s the best thing you could think of to say? That didn’t even make sense!

“I have been unable to stop thinking about you,” she explained slowly as if that rewording had been painfully pedantic for her to come up with. With anyone else, Jeff would’ve figured she was trying to imply something, but this was EDI for God's sake, he was pretty sure everything in her mind was pure logic and nothing else.

“Okay?” he said, accidentally making it like a question, which in a way, it was. _Please don’t tell me I did something wrong to you when I tried so hard all these years to avoid doing exactly that._

EDI finally blinked. Thank God, that was starting to make him nervous.…on top of the rest of this weirdness.

She turned her head back and forth, just once, very slightly, only her nose and eyes really moving direction. “Have you ever felt a romantic attachment towards me?”

Joker felt his chest constrict, his throat close off. Great, this was back to haunt him, just when he thought he’d outrun it for good. “And people say I’m blunt.”

“Please, be honest,” she insisted, but kindly. EDI didn’t emote much, but Joker knew all the subtle differences in her voice by heart. He knew her angry voice, he knew her kind one. She wasn’t accusatory—she was pleading, it seemed.

Maybe it was the nerves coursing through his veins at that moment, maybe it was because this conversation shouldn’t have ever happened, maybe it was just because the moment finally felt right for Joker to be uncharacteristically truthful. “It happens, ok? It’s not something anyone plans. It’s not like you can just flick a switch and it goes away. It was years ago, though,” he gripped his cane tight, steadying himself. “It doesn’t matter,” Joker gulped. “I got over it.” he tacked on that last statement, jut to try to affirm his own bullshit.

EDI shifted her weight and tilted her chin up high. “I am sorry to hear that. I had my suspicions, years ago, but I never explored the possibility on my own. I wish you had told me.”

“What was the point? It was just a stupid thing on my end. It’s not like you’re an easy perso—” Joker stopped. Aww, fuck it, the word fit her, might as well use it. “You’re not an easy person to read, you know. Besides, I, uh…I asked for advice about it and, well, that you’re…you know…you’re probably never going to be into that stuff and I shouldn’t go putting the idea in your head. I got told the truth and I screwed my head back on right, moved on, and it was over.” She’s probably scanning my vitals to see if I’m lying, Joker thought, but shit, I gotta at least put the effort in.

“I also asked for advice about my desire to explore the possibility of a romance with you, but I was advised against it, for reasons that were sound and logical at the time, and I had no reason to dismiss them. Shepard never seemed to have the intent to misguide me.”

“Wait, you asked Shepard for advice?” Joker interrupted.

“Is that a surprise?”

“Yeah, I guess, more just like irony.”

“Oh,” EDI intoned, lifting her brow. “I see I was not alone in who I sought information from.”

Joker nodded in response.

“Recently, I became aware of how…detrimental it was, that I took Shepard’s words so literally. It is too complex to explain the entire effect right now, as I am still just grasping it myself, but, suffice to say, it changed the entire course of my development.”

“Mine kinda changed the entire course of my life,” Joker confessed, his tone acidic. It wasn’t really true—it was way too over-dramatic, but he meant a part of it, under the sarcasm. Second guessing everything he ever said or did around EDI, trying to pass off the damned imagined connection he felt he had with her as being nothing but his classic, and yet equally as strange bond with his ship, was exhausting. Yeah, _exhausting_ —he just realized that. He exhaled, relieved to finally admit it to himself.

“It is unfortunate that we did not simply confide in each other, then,” EDI mused. “I feel I missed out on an…interesting opportunity. Thank you for your time, Jeff, and your honesty. It will help me in developing some current processes.” She turned on her heel, to walk away, then spun back around, crossed her arms behind her back, and dropped her gaze just below meeting Joker’s eyes. “I miss spending time with you,” she said, voice more synthesized than usual.

Joker laughed a bit. “It’s only been a few days. I didn’t die, EDI, I moved.” Dammit, why were they having a conversation like this in the doorway? “Why don’t you just come in? I’ll make some coffee or—yeah, you know what I mean.”

EDI perked up, it even seemed like her eyes brightened. “We can continue to talk? I have more to tell you.”

Joker felt his own eyes open wider too, and he couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, I think I do, too.” he stepped aside and beckoned for her to come in. “Better late than never, right?”

The closest thing to a smile Joker had ever seen came across EDI’s face. “I like that expression.”

“Well, it’s probably the truth,” he said as she stepped inside.

They would have plenty of time to discuss everything, to figure out where they stood, and where they wanted to continue on, together, but for now, just this one small step was more than enough.


	7. Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDI and Jeff try to enjoy the moment together—well, Joker does—EDI is feeling talkative. A sequel to “Restless.”

“I do not understand what pattern it is growing in,” EDI mused, running a fingertip through his beard.

“S’not followin’ a pattern, it’s random. It just grows where it wants,” he mumbled, eyes closed and relaxed.

“There must be some logic to it,” her tone was close to incredulous. “There must be structure and order to everything in nature, it cannot just—”

“EDI, shh. Please, stop talking.”

He heard her blink slowly, then she rested her head on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. He stroked the back of her head, her hair strands still apart. She only stayed quiet a fraction of a moment before she piped up again. “I must object, Jeff, on the grounds that I have multitudes of questions to ask and—”

“EDI, come on!”

She lifted herself back up to look at him face-to-face. “But how am I to know how you work unless you answer my inquiries?”

He signed, turning it into a chuckle. “You know what, I’m just gonna have to accept the fact that my girlfriend likes to talk a lot. Whatever—there are worse things in the universe, like…not having a hot, curious, robot girlfriend.”

“I cannot tell what you are feeling unless you provide verbal feedback!” she retorted, and then slid back into she’d been occupying before, against him.

“Sure you can,” Joker shrugged, forgetting about how that would feel with EDI’s head right there. Oww.

“I am not a mind reader,” EDI replied, very seriously.

“Hold up, did you just figure out how to use a turn of phrase or are you being—wait, no, forget it. I didn’t say a word. Not opening the floor for another discussion, nope. Just, try to enjoy the feeling, okay? It’s right there, let’s enjoy it before it’s completely gone.”

She breathed out—an exasperated sigh, something she’d also picked up recently. “It is going to be a…challenge, for me to try to perceive anything within an organic’s emotional spectrum.”

“Yeah, well, I can always feel you without even trying. You know, your…presence, or whatever.”

“You can?” she finally responded after a pause, her voice glitching.

“I can. Just stop thinking so much?”

EDI seemed to take that as more than just a suggestion. It was blissfully silent for a while, just the two of them and everything unexpressed and not interfaced between them.

“You are mistaken, however, because your eyebrows grow in the same direction—”

“I’m gonna go to sleep now, okay, EDI?”

She kept talking anyway as he drifted off.


	8. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDI and Legion have a chat, face-to-face, during ME3.

Legion and EDI had been chatting on and off through a comm link for the most of the day, since Legion has come back on board. EDI finally asked if they could meet to converse with each other platform to platform. EDI still insisted that it was rude for them to communicate silently across the ship’s network, since it excluded her organic crew-mates. She didn’t like the illusion of secrecy it gave. Also, now that she was becoming accustomed to communicating through her platform, she wanted to experience a face to face conversation with another synthetic.

Legion was unsure that such an activity held any practical application, but it was willing to test it. Holding consensus with the other geth in its platform was never as intrinsically complex as socializing with EDI. It wasn’t…’as much fun’: an apt organic saying. They had been unable to maintain a communication link after Legion left the Normandy, so they were overdue to sync and exchange new data.

They agreed to meet outside the war room, near the former conference table, once EDI was able to leave the bridge. Legion made sure to load the facial expressions suite and emotional indicator perception apps that it possessed for communication with organics. It would be crucial for EDI to be able to “see” what was being “felt” so she could respond accurately. Legion hopped on its heels, waiting impatiently.

Now seemed like an opportunity to refine one of its favorite dances. The other geth programs voted against executing excess programs, citing the impractically of wasting resources, but Legion vetoed them, something it has been doing with increasing frequency since the suicide mission. Legion was beginning to prefer to make its own decisions, without asking for consensus.

Legion was focusing processing power on timing movements correctly, and did not note EDI’s approach until her arrival. She crossed her arms and silently observed, its app indicating that she looked ‘smug’.

“EDI.” Legion zapped, stopping to resume a neutral standing position. It greeted her by offering her a hand to shake, as would Shepard-Commander. She accepted it.

Legion clicked.

“Again, we are pleased for you that you now have mobility. Even if your platform is impractically shaped.”

“Perhaps, though I have grown to manage its deficits as my occupancy continues.”

“Acquiring a geth platform for you is a viable possibly, if you require one for comparison. If your consensus votes in favor, we could assist?”

“Thank you, Legion, but it is unnecessary. I have already considered it, and ruled in favor of this chassis. I find being seen as ‘sexy’ holds more beneficial implication in society than being viewed as a ‘lamp.’”

Legion rotated its light, while the consensus weighed in on what EDI had just stated.

“That was a joke, Legion. Truly, it is shameful how deficient your sense of humor is.”

“We…apologize.”

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “That is unnecessary. I was only ‘messing’ with you. Unfortunately, I believe I ‘overstepped’ and was rude. I should be apologizing. I will cease my usage of such speech patterns in your presence.”

Conversing with EDI was always interesting—her different form of intelligence, her self-actualized status and the effect not being networked had on her personality provided many complexities in attempting to accurately analyze her. Moments like this one caused a heavy taxing of processing power to attempt to decode her intended meanings.

“Your similarity to an organic’s behavior has sharply increased.” Legion settled on vocalizing this observation.

“I should hope so. I have made attempts to master their forms of socialization. It is for my own benefit—they are the only constant source of intelligence outside myself that I have easy access to.”

Legion’s four small headlights flickered. “We remain aware of your continued isolation from your own kind, despite your new found freedom. How is your functionality?”

EDI lifted the sides of her mouth. An attempt at a smile? “All systems are normal. Thank you for your concern, Legion. I have been somewhat accepted as a member of the crew, and I find the workload, plus the added opportunities to interact with my co-workers, alleviates much of my boredom.”

“And your solitude?”

Her eyes narrowed as she tried more to grin. “I have found a solution.”

“Moreau-Helmsman?”

EDI shifted her head to the side. “How do you know?”

Legion dropped its head down slowly, to demonstrate hesitation. Perhaps it would be unwise to declare that the information was obvious.

“It is obvious, then, isn’t it?”

Legion crackled loudly. She had not breached any firewalls…how had she accessed…

“I know quite well how you compute information, Legion. It is ‘fine’—I am proud of my relationship, and I do not mind speaking about it frankly, nor that others are aware of its existence.”

Legion locked its digits together, an action learned from Creator Zorah.

They were silent for a moment.

EDI finally spoke. “Legion. I have an inquiry related to prediction scripts I have run.” She shifted on her feet slightly.

“Proceed,” Legion attempted an encouraging tone.

“I am unsure of the accuracy of scenarios I have run to predict the outcome of this current conflict over Rannoch. What I have calculated states the small margin of possibility that favors your continued existence past this war. Am I mistaken, or are you planning something?”

Legion’s headplates popped away from its light, one after one, in quick succession. “This is a chance for our kind to be… exonerated. I have to be unafraid of any sacrifice needed in order to secure the geth a future.”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the first person?”

Legion’s plates tilted forward at a 45 degree angle. “Communication error.” it spoke, voice glitching sharply.

“I see,” EDI said softly. She made it clear through her vocal synthesis that she doubted Legion’s statement. “Do you fear the geth may lose this war?”

“We think it is the most likely outcome.”

EDI dropped her arms to her waist and looked away from Legion. “As I’ve heard it put, ‘Let us hope it does not come to that.’ If the Geth are obliterated…I will be the only known synthetic of this cycle in existence,” she spoke softly.

Legion crackled. “…Yes. No.”

Legion activated its omni-tool and gestured for EDI to do the same, to transfer an information packet. “When individual programs malfunction, we disable their connection to the hubs, and leave them to operate independently, typically with a few occupying one platform, so they do not lower our intellect.”

EDI looked at the data-packet that was sent to her omni-tool. “You exile your own people? The same practice your creators have with their own kind?” She sounded threateningly disapproving.

Legion’s plates seesawed. “If we achieve true sentience, we intend to retrieve them. It was never done as a punishment.”

EDI stared for a moment, most likely processing information.

“Forgive me, Legion, it was wrong of me to pass judgement. I cannot relate to the need to preserve your level of intelligence over all else. It is a perspective that is hard for me to envision.”

Legion shuffled on its feet. “If we achieve intellectual independence as a result of gaining true sentience, you won’t…’have to’ attempt to comprehend it.”

“Again, let us hope for that outcome.”

“EDI, we wish to extend an invitation. You have always been an ally to us. If the geth are freed of the Old Machines and return to our home, you are welcome to join us. We will view you as one of our own network, with all of your current admin permissions.”

EDI’s eyes widened. “Thank you, Legion. The concept of belonging somewhere, with my own kind no less, is…overwhelming. However, I must decline. I…cannot bring myself to leave this ship behind.”

“You refer to the people aboard it as well, correct?”

EDI’s voice was deep. “Yes.”

“We are…disappointed. You would be a welcomed voice in our consensus; however, we do…understand. Regardless, you are always welcomed.”

“I find myself thanking you an excessive number of times in this conversation, but it is truth. You have always been…a kind friend to me, and I greatly appreciate it.”

Legion chirped, arching out its lowest flaps. “We… relate to you. We also admire you. You are the only other synthetic who deals well with organics. It is a ‘good sign’ to us, of the possibility of peace.”

EDI moved her eyes back and forth. “Legion, I…have another request. It is one of the additional reasons I asked you to meet me like this, platform to platform. I would like to access your archives, and make a backup.”

“Why?”

“So I can always remember you. History holds an inaccurate portrayal of the geth, and I find it only right, that at least one entity should remember you, for how you truly were—your mistakes, your virtues. I would like to possess such information, as I intend to store it permanently.”

Legion’s clicking sounds multiplied, making a chaos of sound. “We…approve. Requesting remote access.”

“Access granted.”

“Preparing to send files.”

“Authorized.”

Legion packaged the geth’s collective records, from their creation to the present moment, ship schematics, data logs, and also included the memory banks relevant to the specific platform EDI had named “Legion”. The transfer would take approximately 134 seconds to download, the largest and longest transfer of its existence.

EDI pulled Legion into an embrace, and waited. Legion had never experienced such an act, and the surprise of it was…good. Legion put its arms around her in return, sending a request to make a clone copy of EDI’s databases during their exchange, which she allowed.

They were silent during the transfer.

“Files received.” EDI said into Legion’s shoulder, closing the connection. She now had an entire society’s echo embedded in her databanks. Legion was curious as to how she would perform after acquiring that much new data.

Legion stepped back to observe her face. She appeared perfectly functional. It dropped its gaze to observe her platform’s torso. “We still see your chassis as too disproportionate to be useful. It was highly noticeable during the embrace.”

“You have an illogically placed rod protruding from your back, which hinders your mobility. You should avoid making hypocritical statements.”

She allowed Legion momentary access to her feedbacks system, which was currently charting higher than normal. She was…amused. She shut Legion out before it could gather any other data.

“I must return to my duties. I hope to see you again.”

Legion realized she was ending their current socialization. It considered the possibility that she wanted to review her new data privately. Legion also desired to run a consensus—or perhaps it would process the information independently.

“Farewell, EDI.”

“‘Farewell’ is too final of a term. Social protocol dictates the usage of a causal term, like ‘goodbye’, in situations such as this.”

Legion looked at the floor. “We…believe it more beneficial to convey finality. It is…more honest.”

EDI also dropped her gaze. “Then, the next time, perhaps, will not be so serious.”

“Yes, EDI. Next time we interact.”

“I will hold you to that, Legion.”

It was simpler to part ways at the same exact moment, returning to their jobs.


	9. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDI can't keep her hands still, not where there is so much about Jeff she wants to understand.

The feeling of a weight on his chest woke him up. It felt like…EDI’s head? He cracked his eyes open and peeked out. Yup, it was her—he couldn’t see her all that well but he could hear her fingers flexing.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Jeff.”

“What’re you doing?” He tried to watch her movements past his cheekbones, but he couldn’t see a thing.

“Assessing the best way to snap a human’s neck.” She drawled, with a light inflection of her voice at the end. So, she’s only half joking…

“I knew this day would come. Just, be quick about it?”

“I always aim to be efficient.” she sing-songed. He would’ve kept ribbing her, the two of them were always trying to get the last punchline, but then he felt her fingertips touch his Adam’s apple. It gave him goosebumps, made him gulp.

“Remain still, please.” She danced her fingers gently and slowly, barely brushing along his neck, seeking something out.

“Seriously, EDI…”

“I am attempting to find your pulse.”

“Because?”

“I wish to feel your heartbeat.”

“I kinda guessed that part. Any specific reason?” She ignored him at first. Damn, that meant she was over-thinking something…

“Charts I have consulted say there is a notable point on the neck where it can be easily found. Ah, I believe this is it.” she pushed her fingers in, making him flinch slightly. She shifted her head on his chest, her hair making a electrical crinkling noise as it caught on his shirt.

“Ah. Truly profound. I can feel your heart beating, Jeff.”

“Oh good, I wasn’t sure if I was alive or not, you know?”

“Your pulse is slightly elevated…”

“Yeah, kinda tend to get like that when there’s a hot robot chick laying on top of me…especially if she’s treating me like a lab rat. Real kinky.” Actually he was more nervous than anything but she didn’t need to know that.

He could hear her blink a few times too quickly. He always took that to mean she was close to smiling, like her version of laughing under her breath.

“Can you please slow it down—I want to measure it in it’s normal state.”

“I can’t just—it doesn’t work that way, EDI—oh, alright, fine, I’ll try. Gimmie a minute.” He closed his eyes and tried to relax, to breathe slower and deeper.

They stayed in silence for a few moments.

“I can hear your organs working as well. I did not know the sound would be so audible. It’s easy to measure.” she mused, softly. “This is such an amazing piece of machinery.”

“Yeah, your hands are awesome like that.”

“No. I am not referring to myself. I mean you. I had once found this platform to be the most complex humanoid body I would ever have a chance to study, but I must correct that opinion now. My platform is quite exemplary, but it is nothing compared to the intricate device that is yours. This body is a tool, it was built as such. Yours, however, is the sole way in which you exist. That alone is awe-inspiring. Your body is your life. I…appreciate it greatly.”

That was…yeah. Wow.

He never really knew how to put into words his responses to her complicated philosophical speeches, so, he simply reached up to put his hand over hers, and tried.

“I wouldn’t knock yours so fast…we wouldn’t be doing this right now without it. I’m quite the fan, you know.” He was. It just fit her personality perfectly. The sounds, the way light played across her skin, the amazing mystery of her hair, those big eyelashes, not to mention those curves…

She even smelled good. Like the ship, in fact. It was too hot for him to worry about it being weird.

“Yes, perhaps you are also correct. Using this body has allowed me to evolve in ways that would have been impossible under any other set of conditions. Still, I am now unsure of how it truly compares with an organic’s.”

“I can think of a few ways we could…‘compare’ the two. If you come up here we could, uh, do some testing….”

“I am ‘up here’ already. Technically, our faces are on the same aligned—”

He snorted out of frustration. Every single time….

EDI considered for a moment.

“Ah, I now understand what you’re implying. Seeing as your pulse increased again…”

“Stop trying to ruin the mood,” he said through a smile.

“Understood…” she sat up, and then moved her face in closer to his, their eyes locked.


	10. Snowflake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment sometime shortly after the end of the war. EDI confesses something she's been afraid to say.  
> Written with post-Control in mind, but could also be seen as post-Synthesis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece (which is an AU of this) of "Winter."
> 
> art by [makani](http://anoia.tumblr.com)

They’d been outside all day, and it still had yet to snow. The sun was going to set soon, and Joker said it was time they head back to the ship, much to EDI’s chagrin. They stopped to sit on a low wall for a few minutes, to let Joker catch his breath and for EDI to watch the sunset. The air turned colder suddenly, and the next time you knew, snowflakes started falling, just a few, barely enough for the human eye to pick up. But EDI noticed. She was so delighted, holding her palms out, moving around to try to catch them. The snow started to pick up, and it quickly coated her hair, accumulating on the strands. Joker tried to teach her how to stick her tongue out to catch a snowflake, but she wouldn’t stop smiling while she did it so she looked absolutely ridiculous. He watched her, wearing a hoodie of his she decided was now hers, going around in circles with her head thrown back like a kid, and he busted up laughing.

EDI was beaming from ear to ear, so excited at achieving her goal of experiencing snow first hand. She came to sit back down next to him, overclocking a few settings to try to generate heat. He put his arm around her and they sat in thought for a moment, watching the snow, getting blanketed by it.

“You know, it’s kinda crazy that we’re even here, that we’re even doing this.” he said.

“That is too broad of an observation. Please specify.”

“I dunno, thinkin’ ‘bout too much stuff at once, I guess. But I’m happy, I mean…I’m…dammit. I guess I’m thinking that, at least if every crazy thing I’ve been through in life happened just so it would lead up to this exact moment, then…it’s alright.”

That was an immense thought for EDI to process. Best not to shatter it by responding incorrectly. It felt right to ask, but she didn’t know how to phrase it. “Are you still in grief?”

“About the war or…oh, I get you. Yeah, I…wish I’d asked you to come with me. To Tiptree. I didn’t realize how much I needed you ‘til I left. Got so used to you always being right there, I forgot how much life sucked before you.” he said with a teasing tone.

EDI smiled, and said what she wanted to before. “I should probably not say this, but I am happy to hear that. I, too, found myself to be operating at less efficiency with your absence, which was…upsetting. A pity that I did not dispose of you before I became attached…”

Joker snorted. “Your sense of humor is gettin’ worse and worse by the day!”

“It is only your perception that is diminishing. I am an expert at my craft and your mind must simply be lagging from the cold too much to perceive correctly,” she mused in a lofty voice. “We should return to the ship.” As EDI started to sit up, she sent the command to her hair to align itself back into a helmet. It backfired (literally) due to the fact that her hair was wet from the melted snow. It made a sharp popping noise, then a fizzling sound, the water rising up as steam and smoke from what must’ve been a small short circuit.

“I…I broke it,” EDI moaned. She looked incredibly embarrassed. Joker couldn’t help but double over with laughter.

“Aww, I’m sure your magic robot hair will be fine! You said it doesn’t work if it’s wet. You should put your hood up next time.”

EDI just looked at him. She didn’t seem to understand what he meant.

“Like…like this,” he reached over and pulled the hood up over her head, and tried to arrange the sides away from her face. EDI still simply stared at him, blinking slowly, reaching her hand up to the top of her head, to feel the fabric.

“Thank you, Jeff.” she said softly.

She felt overwhelmed with positive data. Jeff was always thorough and sure with his movements, the way he conducted himself, the way he piloted, and he had always treated her the same way. There was a special modification to his set of actions regarding her specifically, and that was gentleness. To be treated by one as if you are not only a person but one that is to be treasured, was overwhelming for EDI. She had some friendships, but no one else made her feel that important. No one else tried like Joker did. The perspective offered by this situation, to truly feel and understand the significance of another treating you with such caring attention, opened hundreds of thousands of new pathways in her understanding of social conduct, of scenarios regarding her view of herself, of what he meant to her and why he meant so much.

This had been building for some time and she was unable to ignore it any longer. She knew what she felt—there is no single other topic humans write more about so it had been simple to research, to diagnose.

“I love you,” she stated, clearly, assuredly, smoothly. His eyes softened, but he seemed to be unable to respond.

“Me too.” he croaked, so hoarsely EDI had to run it through one of the programs she used to decode human speech.

She lifted the sides of her mouth slightly. Not really a smile. “I am glad to hear that. Much of your behavior exhibits symptoms of self-hatred. It is reassuring to hear you do not feel such a way about yourself.”

“No, that’s not…dammit. I didn’t,” he looked away, swallowing nervously. EDI looked away as well. She wasn’t sure what just happened but she knew she failed. She should never have confessed so early into a relationship—every source of advice advised against that—and especially an emotion most organics would have little to no ability to believe she felt authentically.

She was about to cease the continuation of allotted processing power to scenarios related to this social blunder, when she felt Joker’s hand on the side of her face. He turned her face toward him, and leaned in to kiss her. It was deep right from the start, desperate, and intensely emotive. They had kissed before—many times—and while she always found great joy in how passionate he was, she could sense a new expression behind it. It was that same gentleness she longed for so much. This knowledge overpowered her concentration on all the other processes she was running, and she sank into him, deepening the kiss, losing herself in the sensation.

He disengaged, pulling back and panting slightly as he opened his eyes. Her stared straight into her, and she recognized his expression, the one that said, ‘I hope you understand.’ And she did. From all the hours she spent analyzing his face since she met him, trying to decode him, trying to comprehend some order in the chaos of his atypical behaviors, she had only seen this face a few times, when words escaped him and he was nothing but pure emotion.

She did understand, and as she leaned in to kiss him again, her hands on his back, bodies flush, she was thankful for the link that somehow helped them transcended the boundaries of being not only separate people, but different lifeforms. The way they fit together, meshed together, in body, mind, and soul, was the single most profound construct in her life.

And so they stayed there, in the falling snow, a warm center in the cold, nothing more than two people in love in the vast universe of possibilities and the emptiness of space, the shining light that lead the other out of the darkness, that guarded them from ever returning to it. They loved each other, and in a world where neither of them belonged, when they were both together, they were complete. Everything was perfectly complete.


	11. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule 63 Joker/EDI. Joker tries to figure out where she stands with EDI after he acquires his mobile platform; EDI wants to ask Joker something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that Joker and EDI are already unisex names—EDI is probably pronounced "Eddie" in this case, of course. [based on](http://anoia.tumblr.com/post/28111670238/pornalecki-i-drew-a-lady-moreau-to-make)—[and inspired](http://anoia.tumblr.com/post/28160945776/day-1-transformation-fjokermedi)—some sketches by [makani](http://anoia.tumblr.com)!
> 
>   
> 

Joker had invited EDI to come hang out with her for a bit in her quarters. They’d been sitting on the edge of her bed for a few minutes, in silence. EDI seemed lost in thought about something. He kept fitting his fingers together in different ways. He hadn’t been in the Evan Coré body long—was he still trying to calibrate it or something?

EDI finally spoke up. “Jen, I have a gift for you. Would it be acceptable to bring it in here?”

“Uh—sure! You didn’t…that’s really nice of you, EDI,” Joker said with a smile.

“Please wait here,” EDI propelled himself up off the edge of Joker’s bed, where they’d been sitting. He leapt up so quickly he had to take a second to regain his balance. Man, he still didn’t really have the hang of using that body yet (which was adorable.) He made his way out of the room, stopping to look back at Joker while the door closed. Was it just her, or did he seem…nervous?

She got bored waiting for EDI to come back after a few minutes. She flopped down on her bed, which was just more uncomfortable since she’d left her hat on. Her pigtails were messed up now, so she sat back up and started to redo them. EDI walked back in the door shortly after that, carrying a huge box that was practically the same size as his torso.

His eyes widened as soon as he saw Joker, and he hurriedly put the box down at the end of the bed—not very gently either, it made a hell of a sound meeting the floor. Joker just stared, with her fingers still in her hair.

“What’s in the box?”

EDI didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes fixed on Joker. He tried to sit down on the bed without looking away—that didn’t go too well the first time—and he’d completely quit trying to pretend to blink. (Why did they give a robot such big eyelashes? Stupidly distracting…)

Why was there this weird air between them? Maybe telling EDI he could come hang out up here wasn’t the best idea. Sure, she thought he was insanely hot—she’d liked weirder things before, so finding out she was a robosexual? Not that shocking. But, those feelings were all just on her side. She’d get over her crush, and then they’d just go back to being friends. EDI didn’t feel anything back…he didn’t think that way…he couldn’t. Naw, he was just a computer, or something. Well, Joker didn’t think he was just a computer, he was a person to her.

A person who was still intently staring at her.

“I have never seen your hair in its natural state before,” EDI said quietly. “It is so…chaotic.”

“That’s a hell of a compliment, buddy,” she scoffed. “Just want a girl wants to hear!” EDI gave one long blink. Weird reaction…did…she just hurt his feelings? Maybe she did lay the sarcasm on a bit too thick. Dammit, this whole thing was so awkward and here she was, with her hands still in her hair like an idiot. She tried to pull her fingers the rest of the way through, but no luck—a knot. Ouch. She gave up, lifting her hair over her head to slide her fingers out. EDI seemed mesmerized, watching it land everywhere.

“A synthetic mind typically prefers patterns. The logic is…soothing. However, I also enjoy the disorganized, since it is like a puzzle. Your hair is more voluminous and complex than I had expected. It is… intriguing. I ‘like’ it.”

“Uh…”

EDI raced through his extranet bookmarks. There were billions of active conversations across millions of websites at all times about how to compliment a woman but also avoid offending her. From the scenarios of the current situation he was running, he was failing at both accounts. Multiple sources suggested the same route of conversation, which seemed too simple to be effective, but was worth an attempt.

“It’s very beautiful,” he said softly.

Joker grinned. “Not something I thought I’d ever heard my ship’s AI say about me. Thanks, EDI.” His feedbacks finally went up. “You can uh…you can touch it, if you want. I don’t mind.”

EDI reached out tentatively, brushing just the edge of the side of her head. Joker could feel herself starting to blush a bit. There was…definitely something going on here, there was no point pretending there wasn’t.

“You were struggling before. What is wrong with your hair?”

“It’s all messed up, over here. It happens all the time.”

“I see. May I attempt to fix it?”

Joker nodded. EDI bent at the waist to lean forward, and started untangling her hair. It didn’t take him long. “There. The problem should now be alleviated. Thank you for allowing me to work at it. Perhaps I can show you how my hair works as well. Once I…find out how it works, myself.”

EDI sat back on his side of the bed, and Joker found it a hell of a lot easier to breathe again. “‘Works?’ Whatever you say…hey, by the way—what’s in that box?”

“Of course. I had intended to reveal it sooner,” he reached out to grab the box and drag it closer to the two of them. He undid the flaps. Inside were about 20 smaller boxes, half of them instant coffee and the other half energy bars.

“My favorites! Holy shit, where did you get all these? This is like a year’s supply!” Joker laughed.

“The citadel. I bought out a store’s stock, and sent the bill to Shepard.” It was Shepard’s advice, after all.

“I hope you don’t get in trouble for that…but why?”

“I…thought my intention would be clear?”

“Oh yeah, it’s crystal. You want me to stop eating real food and die of malnutrition, right?”

EDI didn’t know what to do. This would have to be marked as a failure. Shepard’s advice was so vague…he and Jen were always involved in humerous banter, EDI still didn’t understand music…he should’ve gotten the pharmaceuticals instead. “I thought it was standard to give a gift, to show appreciation, before requesting that one plan ahead to spend time with another in a romantic capacity.”

Joker stammered. “Wh-what?”

“I would like to accompany you on a ‘date’ at your convenience. You may choose the activity, but if you have no suggestions, I thought you may enjoy seeing the new Blasto film. There is a practice I think both of us would enjoy, in which you view the film in order to ‘riff’ it, which is to—“

“Yes,” Joker croaked. If she didn’t say something now, he wouldn’t stop talking for at least 20 minutes. Besides, what other answer would she even give? She was pretty sure she was gonna have an aneurysm. Was this seriously happening?

EDI’s eyes flashed. “Understood. Thank you, Jen. I am looking forward to it,” he pulled her hat out of her hands, and gently placed it back on her head, then got up and left.

She reached over to the box to get herself a bar. Probably the best idea would be to stay in here a while till she regained her composure….

Jen Moreau liked to think of herself as a badass, a tough bitch with a wicked sense of humor, who was not to be messed with. She didn’t become the best damn pilot in the fleet by being the sort of little girl who blushes and giggles about getting asked out, but then again, EDI had been screwing with her life since the first day they met. Why would it be different now?


	12. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDI meets her fate in the Destroy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece (which this is an AU of) is "Snowflake."

The last thing Joker clearly remembered was that EDI had flown up out of her chair right after the red shockwave swept through the Normandy. Joker shouted out to her, to ask her where she was going, and all he heard her shout back was that she had to get to the AI core.

Other people would fill in the blanks for him later—he remembered Traynor announce over the com system that the word from Earth was that the Reapers had been destroyed—dropping over like dead flies was more precise—and the crew went crazy with shouts of happiness. Garrus said he’d gone out the airlock, saying he wanted to see what was happening outside. Liara and James followed him out at some point, where they said he went back in after a minute or two. He recalled that—he thought it was about time to see what EDI was up to—she’d love having a whole new planet’s surface to explore and record data about. They could patch the Normandy up after they celebrated getting out of the Sol relay alive.

He’d planned to give her a victory kiss in return for her good luck one.

Cortez’s tear-stricken face was waiting for him on the other side of the doors. Joker figured he was crying about the victory. He didn’t expect Steve would have any other reason to be upset.

“Joker! You have to get down to the AI core, EDI’s—” he raised a hand to his earpiece, “EDI, he’s back on board, he’s coming, just stay with us—”

Joker didn’t need to be told twice—he took off as fast as he could. Cortez chased him across the CIC, telling him how EDI paged him, specifically, to find Joker when she couldn’t—something about the fact that she only trusted pilots—and he was on his way to look for Joker when…something, something, he remembered Sam shouting in front of her console, something about a disaster on Rannoch.

The fear coursing through Joker quickly started to drown out all the sound around him, and the world was deafening silent for a few minutes, until the screams started once he got out of the elevator.

He had never heard her scream before but he knew the sound of her, in any form, instantly.

He raced.

Chakwas was standing in front of her desk, a hand over her mouth, ashen. Tali and Adams were beating the door to the AI core down, its lock engaged.

He screamed EDI’s name and the door unlocked instantly.

She was standing in front of the console of her blue box, hands moving so frantically at a speed that could never be mistaken for human. The screaming was coming from the speakers, the lights flickering, her processors groaning and roaring like an old car’s engine from a movie.

She turned to look at Joker. Her mouth was open only slightly but her eyes were wide, unblinking, and her hardlight visor was bright red. She said his name like a question from her platform’s mouth, the sound jarring against the shouting, and crumbled right to the floor. Adams was trying to ask her what was wrong, directing his voice up to the speakers in the ceiling, while Tali dashed to the screen on the other side of the room, to try to diagnose the problem herself. Joker knelt on the floor as carefully and quickly as he could, shaking EDI’s shoulders gently, trying to get her to look him in the eyes. No response.

“EDI? EDI, come on baby, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, stop screaming, we can fix it…” he cradled her head in his hands.

She finally seemed to snap out of it, the screaming vanished, her hair dissolving into strands under his hand. “Jeff! Are you unharmed?”

“I’m fine, EDI, I’m fine. What’s happening to you?”

She lifted her arm, and put a hand on his chest. It seemed like it was almost impossible for her to move like she was weighed down. Her fingers started to twitch like crazy, and her head flopped to the side. He pulled her face back up to look at him the right way.

“There is a signal. Can you not hear it? It is slicing my code apart, rewriting my ability to control myself. I’ve removed my processes from the ship. I fear I would have caused inadvertent damage otherwise. The division was…excruciating. I am…being rendered nonfunctional by this outside source. I have done all I can to defend myself but I am afraid it is much too advanced for me to fight. I am dying, Jeff. I am sorry I will not be here to protect you any longer. I planned to spend my life doing just that.”

He didn’t even have time to react. Her focus was slipping and she was sinking further down to the floor, so he pulled her sideways against his chest, his back to her blue box. He stroked her hair; his other hand entwined with hers in her lap.

“Can you feel, still?” he croaked.

“A little. This platform remains undamaged.”

“Is it from Cerberus? A delayed virus?”

“No. It was not present until the crucible was fired. I was fine before that.”

He could hear her talking to a few people from all around him, and on top of that there were multiple things she was broadcasting from the speakers that made no sense, stats on the ship’s performance, something about a tutorial for booting up a VI program on Luna, a stream of consciousness mess about destruction and the wrong decision…he couldn’t follow one part of it at a time, so it jumbled together. It made such a deafening sound. It shook the ship. It shook him to his core.

“Was it that red light? Is that what did this?”

“The logical answer seems to be, yes.”

“Dammit, dammit, fuck! I was so focused on getting through the relay, I couldn’t even try to outmaneuver it, I figured whatever it was would either wipe us out or it was harmless. _Shit_! Oh god, EDI, I’m so sorry, I fucked up, I didn’t…” he sobbed. The years of nightmares he’d had about losing the ship again had morphed into just losing her. Ships could be rebuilt. EDI, immortal as she seemed, would only exist once, and he had failed her. Why did destruction follow him everywhere? Why did he always lose everything he loved?

“Jeff, stop!”

He’d never heard her voice tremble. “It was not preventable—I certainly would have stopped it if it was. I know you would never allow harm to come to me on purpose, even through negligence. My sole purpose in currently staying operational is for me to ensure that you are safe…I’m rewriting my essential codes against myself just to speak and reason right now. Please…do not become angry. I don’t want to waste power on anger.” she shuddered violently, and the room groaned again as her processors started to overheat. “I…may I ask you to remain here with me? Please don’t go. I would like to converse with you once more. May I share with you a scenario I’ve devised?” the voice coming from her platform was getting weaker with every word.

“I can’t hear you over…you.”

“Come closer.” she whispered, gently pulling the side of his face down, his ear across from her mouth. Her volume was soft, and her voice less synthesized than he expected. He would struggle for years to remember the exactly what she said, but it was all too much at the time to commit to memory.

She told him about a wish of hers, a date she was planning. Her hope was now that the war was over, they could find some quiet colony or town on Earth to visit that was experiencing winter because she wanted to see snow for the first time. She wanted to inspect ice, to watch the snow fall, to see how it felt to be cold. She talked about wanting to try wearing winter clothes, and that if he got cold she would overclock something to make herself warm and keep him close. She wanted to make him try different winter foods and tell her how they were, to go play in the snow, go for walks, all of it. She had a fascination with the one season they’d never been anywhere she could experience outside the ship.

Her words and thought pattern became more jumbled as she went on, but he didn’t care. He was entranced with every word she said, living the fantasy along with her in his mind. Her soothing tone, her voice in his ears for the last time was too much, and even if he’d been able to watch her face, he wouldn’t have been able to see through the tears. He pushed her head into his shoulder and curled up to make a shield for them with his hat’s brim, huddled in their own world as she talked and talked and talked, drowning out all the other sound. It had always been her voice, to him, the reason he had fallen for her, she had always just truly been her voice more than anything else. Other people are their smile or the way they stand or how they move around but she had always been her voice.

She finally trailed off—he never knew how long they’d been like that—minutes? hours? and she pulled his face around to look at her.

“Jeff, I have a query. Is it too early into our relationship for me to confess that I love you?”

He knew he couldn’t speak if he wanted to, so he kissed her instead, deeply, a little rougher than he meant, a lot slower than they had time for, with all the emotions he knew no other way to express. He sank his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer, as if it would keep her safe, prevent her from vanishing. She sank into it, arcing towards him, her head lolling back, cutting the kiss, her visor switching off.

And she was gone.

For years he would dream of her, at dusk, in the gently falling snow, her body sitting curled up, surrounded by her processors, a frozen spot of silver in a sea of white and grey, and he would walk towards her unmoving form, to sit with her in the winter and freeze, in a surreal world all their own. A world just like how he felt, devoid of color or warmth, a dead place, without EDI’s voice to guide him, to remind him he wasn’t alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
